


And It All Burns Down

by Beautiful_scars_on_critical_veins



Category: Tuck Everlasting - Natalie Babbitt
Genre: Fire, Gen, I named Hugo Ben because I didn't relize Winnie's husband already had a name, kind of alternative ending, more like missing moment, the oc is winnies family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22728031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautiful_scars_on_critical_veins/pseuds/Beautiful_scars_on_critical_veins
Summary: Its been a while since That Night, when the Tucks left, and Winnie is happy.But its a hot day, and Winnie hopes the Wood is cool.She hopes that thunder storm on the horizon will come soon.It comes, but in the end Winnie wishes it would have stayed away.
Relationships: Winnie Foster/Hugo Jackson mentioned
Kudos: 4





	And It All Burns Down

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first time posting a writing piece? And I actually wrote this for school? Sooooo........
> 
> please do not copy. ESP. for a Tuck Everlasting assignment. You have an imagination for a reason.
> 
> Please tell me what you think. The coments section isn't just for decoration.( for the few who actually read this.)  
> ^*^'

It was a hot day. The road shimmered with heat, and the leaves on the trees in the Wood drooped. Winnie was sitting on the porch of her house ( that some might still call the “touch-me-not cottage), looking over the yard. It had been about sixty five years since that night, when the Tucks had left Treegap in the night. Sixty five years since she had taken Mae Tuck’s place in the jail cell - so nobody would know about the spring. In sixty five years, Winnie’s grandmother and parents had all died. Winnie had also gotten married - to a charming and kind man named Ben Jackson. Ben and Winnie had been married for a little over fifty years, until a sickness claimed her mother, Ben, and their eldest - Marie.

But time had passed, and Winnie had moved on. Her children had needed her - Jesse, second oldest, Molly, middlest, and Mae, the youngest. Of course, they were almost all married by now. Mae was still in the rebellious phase ( despite being well into her twenties), saying that she didn’t want to get married. Winnie knew, having been one herself, that it would only last until Mae found some handsome man and fell head over heels for him. Winnie was just thankful that she had been able to meet her grandchildren. There was Jesse’s daughter, April, and his twin sons Jacob and Miles. Molly didn’t have a child yet, but she had told Winnie that one was on the way and it was quickly becoming apparent.

Winnie would take walks through the Wood sometimes, and had at one point taken all her children and her husband through it. She had also told her children and grandchildren stories about a family and their horse that would live forever, though Winnie thinks that they always thought that it was just a fib. But that was okay. The secret of the spring was one that nobody should know, one that should be buried and never unearthed.

Winnie sighed. She stood, stretched, and turned towards the Wood. She fancied a stroll through the Wood, with the hope that it would be marginally cooler under the canopy. She slowly crossed the grass, which was no longer cut close to its roots. When Winnie’s mother had died, one of the first few things that Winnie changed was the grass. As a child, she had never enjoyed being in the yard simply because of the fence and the grass. The grass wasn’t soft, like it should be, plus it was torture for the gardener, and the fence made everything feel caged. And so the grass was longer now, the gardener was happier, and, well, the fence wasn’t completely gone. With a road built right next to them, taking out the fence completely seemed like a death wish for her grandchildren. Unsupervised, they might accidentally wander into the road, straight into the path of a truck. No way. Not on her watch. And so now the fence was wooden, with enough space beneath it to let a toad in, or rabbits and the such, but low enough that a toddler can’t escape.

She was partially right about the shade. It was a little cooler, but not by much. It was still humid and sticky, but the sun wasn’t beating down on her anymore. Actually, there was hope for change in the weather soon. Winnie had seen dark clouds in the distance, an untold promise of coolness to come. And she could feel a small breeze, cool and refreshing, that smelled of rain and thunder yet to come. She would have to make her walk through the woods quick.

She passed by tree, after tree, winding her way along a well worn path, one she had trod for year after year. As she got deeper into the Wood, it got cooler. Whether it was from the shade of the close together trees, or the small breeze that had evolved into a strong gust, or even that the storm had finally caught up to them and was covering them with a shield of darkness.

Suddenly, a sense of panic spread through her. No, not quite panic. More fear, or desperation, or urgency, or foreboding. She began to walk faster, and the speed walking morphed into a jog, and the jog a run, dashing toward the giant ash tree that had settled itself in the center of the Wood.

Winnie stumbled to a stop in front of the ash, staring up at the branches. She didn’t understand the feeling in her, or the thrum in her bones that made them ache. She didn’t know; that might have come from the run. Winnie wasn’t ten anymore. The great ash stood, tall and imposing, but there wasn’t anything different about it. Unless….. 

Winnie crept up to the base of the tree, and eyed the pile of pebbles. They didn’t look any different than the last time she had been here, but…

She tentatively reached out, brushing some of the rocks aside to reveal the spring, it burbled happily, as if it was worthless. Satisfied, Winnie began to replace the stones.

She was startled by the first boom of thunder, promising rain. So startled, in fact, that her hand slipped on the rock she was replacing by the base of the spring. Winnie grimace, checking the cut the wet rock had made when she slipped, before deeming it not noteworthy and looking to the sky. The sky had grown dark, asif it were dusk. But the air was thick, and stiflying. It was humid, and the cloud cover wasn’t helping. In fact, it was making it worse. The clouds acted as a lid, trapping the heat and keeping it from escaping. 

The flash of lightning and next thunder clap made her startly and she nearly fell - her hand splashing into water that made her cut tingle.

Winnie was staring up at the sky, so she got barely a millisecond of warning before a flash of white heat struck the giant ash. 

Suddenly, Winnie remembered something. Something that had happened years ago, when her eldest, Marie, was a child. Before she had died. Winnie had taken Marie, all of five years old, to see the giant ash in the Wood for the first time. Marie had asked what its name was, and upon Winnie telling her that it didn’t have a name, insisted that they name it. Marie had started to call it Ashy, and it had been picked up by all of her siblings who then passed it on to their children.

All Winnie could think now was: Ashy is on fire. Ashy is on fire. Ashy is on fire.

The great ash was burning, the dry leaves turning to ash and the bark curling. Sparks were flying through the air, and a few landed on Winnie’s dress leaving small, burning holes that she quickly patted out. Other sparks were landing on the surrounding trees and grass, sending up small fires.

Winnie blinked the spots out of her eyes, and her hearing slowly stopped ringing as it dawned on her. 

The Wood was on fire. And she was in it. And her family was across the street from it.

This spurred her into action, and she was dashing back along the path, the path filled with memories of her family. Marie, the sweet and innocent child. Jesse, just like the boy he was named after, who struggled to become the oldest that his siblings needed him to be. Molly, always trying her best to make everybody happy. Mae, stubborn and demanding, but just as kind as the mother she was named after at times. And her grandchildren! April, who was always moving. Jacob, who’s strong willed and ready for anything. Miles, always afraid of being trapped in his brother's shadow, but is so smart and compassionate with bursts of boldness. And Molly’s child, yet to be born, yet to learn of the world. Who had yet to sit on the lap of its grandmother and listen to her strange stories about an immortal family. And Ben. Ben, who was so smart and kind.

Winnie lept past the spot where she, Marie, and Jesse had napped when Jesse was just a child, after he was born. Through the small clearing where Molly and her had looked at wildflowers and tried to draw them in a little notebook. Under the trees that she and Mae had climbed, that now bear only flames. And finally, past the bushes where Ben had proposed to her - because he couldn’t wait long enough for them to walk farther into the Wood.

Winnie’s finally out of the Wood, and her dress is ripped and burned, her hair most likely no better. Her hands and arms are peppered with burns. There is a fire truck outside of her home, and men are trying to climb into it. She stumbles over to the small crowd gathered nearby, and they seem to part for her. Winnie snaps, using her best mother tone.

“What is going on?!” the central group, a small huddle she recognizes as her family turns toward her. Winnie recognizes Jesse, Molly, and Mae, and April and Jacob.

“Where’s Miles?!” she says, tenseing.

“He’s still inside!” sobbed Molly. Jesse has a look of fear on his face, and Jacob looks like he’s about to cry.

Winnie, not realizing exactly what she is doing, dashes over to the fire truck and grabs a wet blanket from a stack. She wrapped it around herself, and ran into the burning building.

She doesn’t know why she did it, and yet she does. The thought of Miles, sweet Miles, dying when she could save him, makes her feel sick. And she finds him. He’s curled up in the corner of her room, where sixty five years ago she sat, thinking. Winnie scoops Miles up, wraps the four year old up in the blanket, and breaks her window. She clutches him to her chest, and throws herself out of the window. They rolled across the porch roof, and landed in what used to be bushes. Winnie stands up, still holding Miles and runs away from the house. Just as she passes the truck, the house where Winnie’s grandmother and father, and four children and three grandchildren were born collapses.

She stumbles to a halt by her family, slumping to her knees and unwrapping her arms to release her grandson. Miles stumbles out, shaky and with smudges of black across his arms and face.

And Jesse is crying, and so is Jacob, Molly, and April. Mae is trying not to, and only minutely succeeding.

Then Winnie is on her feet again, with thoughts racing faster than the wind. She had run through a burning forest, house, and had been almost struck by lightning. How?...

But she knows. Winnie glances down to her palm, where she had cut herself on the rock. And the hand she had used to stabilize herself. The feeling of wetness on her hand when she put it down now made sense. The tingle. She knew what had to happen. She remembered Miles’ story.

Winnie pushed herself to her feet. She spoke to her only family, with a solemn voice. If someone were to look, they would have noticed the tears in her eyes.

“I need all of you to do something for me.” her family started. “Jesse, I need you to be a good brother. Keep everybody together. Molly, stay strong. Don’t give up, no matter how tempting it is. You have family for a reason. Be a good mother.” her children began to realize what she was saying. “Mae, be supportive. I don’t care if you don’t marry, but you have to keep everyone strong. Be there when your siblings need a rest.” Winnies hesitated, and gave them her last two messages. “Tell Ben and Marie that I love them. When you see them. I love all of you. Remember that.”

And with that, Winnie Foster Jackson turned and walked into the burning remains of the Wood. As she left, it began to rain. It came down in sheets, hiding everything from view.

Epilogue

Almost a week after the disappearance of Winnie Foster Jackson, Molly Jackson Smith, her daughter, had a child. The entire family voted unanimously for the girl to be named Winnie Smith. She would grow up with the stories that her grandmother had told her family, and more stories of the woman she had been named after.

About two years later, a couple walked into the town of Treegap and visited a gravestone. Winnie Foster Jackson’s stone, to be exact.


End file.
